Voyager: Tongues
by DarkLoad
Summary: An alien entity takes control of Lt. Paris, claiming to be an explorer. Can it be trusted? My first fan fiction! UPDATE: Finally, the third part is finished!
1. Part One

A/N: This is my first fan fiction. I do not own Star Trek or ST: VOY. Any and all comments are welcome.

Acts Chapter Two, verses 2-4, New International Version. _Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them._

Tom Paris frowned. _That doesn't sound like much fun, _he thought to himself._ Just blowing up Dr. Chaotica's Death Ray isn't going to cut it …I've got it! _He tapped some buttons on the padd he was holding.

He was in his quarters, writing the plot for a new holonovel, titled _The Adventures of Captain Proton. _He'd always had a fascination with 20th century Earth-he even ate so-called "junk food" every once in a while-and had recently taken an interest in how people from the mid 20th century had viewed the future. So, he was basing the program on science fiction works from that period.

The comm. system beeped. _"Red Alert. Lt. Paris to the bridge," _called Captain Janeway.

Tom responded, and was there in a few moments. "Do we have guests?" he asked, relieving the ensign at the helm.

"We detected a transwarp signature," explained Janeway. "It wasn't Borg, so we decided to drop out of warp and try to contact them, to try to get a transwarp coil. Strange thing is, it's gone now. Absolutely nothing on sensors now. We went to red alert as a precaution."

Tuvok spoke from his station. "I am now detecting a ship of unfamiliar configuration. It is within visual range."

"Onscreen."

Nothing but an empty star field. Glances were shared all around the bridge.

Tuvok worked at his station. "There is no cloaking device within a range of several light-years. I cannot explain the phenomenon."

"I think I can," said Tom. "Look."

Harry Kim whistled from his station.

Something was definitely there. It was glowing a bright purple; other than that, it could be anything.

"Mr. Tuvok, Mr. Kim, report," commanded Janeway.

Harry tapped his console. A harsh beeping noise issued from it. "I've been locked out," he exclaimed, bewildered.

Tom pressed some controls experimentally. "Helm's locked out too. Whatever's causing this either isn't too selective, or knows what it's doing."

Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Do we still have weapons?"

He responded in the negative.

Janeway tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Torres. Report."

"_Whatever's out there is emitting some sort of dampening field. The only things that _aren't _down are shields, internal sensors, communications, the holodeck, and life support. We're working on it."_

"Captain!" shouted Tom.

A beam of energy-the same purple color as its source-was approaching _Voyager_.

Very slowly.

Tuvok tried his console again. "I am still unable to undo the lockout," he said.

"I believe the most appropriate term for our situation," said Tom "is 'sitting duck'."

"Want to get out and push?" remarked Harry.

The beam continued on.

After some time, it reached the outer shields, passing through them like they weren't even there.

It continued to grow on the view screen.

Then, it seemed to pass through it, too.

And then, it hit Tom Paris.

The console in front of him erupted in a shower of sparks. Not that it mattered; Tom had already flown back a full meter, and didn't get hurt by it. He hit the ground, hard, skidding to a halt in front of Captain Janeway.

She slapped her commbadge. "Bridge to Doctor. Medical emergency." She knelt down and checked his pulse and breathing. He was alive, but unconscious.

The Doctor stepped from the turbo lift, a medkit in hand. "What happened?" He put down the medkit and took out a medical tricorder.

"It was some sort of energy beam," explained Janeway. "It passed right through the hull, but it was the slowest thing I think I've ever seen."

The Doctor glanced at her, then continued the scan. "He seems to be fine. There is evidence of a massive energy charge. I'd say it only disrupted his nervous system for only a few seconds. This should do it." He took out a hypospray from the medkit, touched a control, and dispensed a drug into Tom's neck.

Tom's eyes fluttered open. "Ug…What happened?"

"You were hit by the energy beam," explained Janeway. "I want you to report to Sickbay for a full examination." Tom nodded in agreement.

Tuvok spoke again. "The lockout has been lifted, Captain. I can find no trace of the phenomenon."

They all looked to the view screen.

There was nothing.

_Captain's log, stardate 51818.2. Continuous scans still show no signs of the anomaly. I, for one, am relieved. The Doctor has found no problems with Mr. Paris, and has released him from sickbay. _

B'Elanna pressed the call button. "Come in," called Tom from inside.

The door _whooshed _open.

Tom was staring blankly at a wall, a padd in hand. "Tom?" she asked worriedly.

He blinked, turned to her and smiled. "Hi," he greeted her. "I want you to look at this." He handed her the padd.

B'Elanna scrolled through it. It was a holonovel. "_The Adventures of Captain Proton_, huh?" She handed it back. "Sounds interesting…Leave me out of it."

Tom grinned. "Fine with me. The only role I think you could fill is Queen of the Spider-People--"

"No," said B'Elanna, firmly. "But think about a few more female roles."

Tom frowned a bit, then added a note to himself on the padd. "Noted." He saved the program and shut the padd off. "Let's go, shall we?"

Tom fired his phaser at the blue-edged disk, missed. He fired again; too late. It struck him-and disappeared.

"Full impact," intoned the computer. "Round to B'Elanna Torres. Winner: B'Elanna Torres. Score: 7 to 3."

"Okay," panted Tom. "Tiebreaker?" B'Elanna nodded. "Computer," he continued, "New game." The disk appeared again, flashing blue and red.

Tom had no idea how he'd been keeping up. Since B'Elanna was half-Klingon, she tended to win games like Velocity. She'd picked this for tonight's date-a few games of Velocity, then a swim and a sunset on Risa. Simulated, of course.

The disk turned blue again. Tom managed to shoot it immediately; it turned red and spun towards B'Elanna. She dove out of the way, twisted, and shot the disk.

Tom wasn't ready for it. He rolled, and in a brief moment of panic, he dropped his phaser. It slid away, out of reach , and too far for him to scramble for it. He flipped over to face the disk. Human instincts quickly took over, and he reflexively shielded his face with his arms.

Something changed.

In an instant-which, despite its blinding speed, seemed to pass in slow motion-Tom uncovered his face.

It was utterly, entirely, devoid of expression.

And then, he _moved_.

Before B'Elanna knew it, Tom managed somehow to grab the phaser.

He shot the disk, hitting it dead center.

It hovered for a split second, changed color, and came back for B'Elanna.

She was too surprised to move.

"Full impact. Round to Tom Paris."

Tom blinked. "What just…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

B'Elanna hesitated. "Computer, end program." She helped Tom to his feet. "You're going to Sickbay."

Tom didn't argue.

_Captain's log, supplemental. After another thorough examination of Mr. Paris, we are still no closer to understanding what happened on the Holodeck. Meanwhile, we are stopping near a Class-6 nebula for routine maintenance to the warp core. I've given most of the crew time off-duty to rest._

Harry took another bite of his sandwich, staring out the mess hall windows. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said to Tom, who was sitting next to him. They were both off-duty, and were looking at the nebula while eating.

Tom grunted a bit.

Harry started to say something else, then stopped. _Tom doesn't grunt, usually he has an answer. _He looked at Tom, just to be sure he was all right.

He was staring at the window, without any expression whatsoever.

"Tom?" prodded Harry. "Are you with us?"

Tom's head snapped to stare at Harry. His gaze _had_ been unfocused, but now it was very sharp, as if he was staring at the bulkhead behind Harry.

Tom moved his mouth.

_Something _spoke.

Its-Harry felt certain Tom wasn't in control-language was hissing, guttural, garbled. Harry had heard a Klingon speaking before; this was similar, except now the Klingon was gargling, with a cup of sulfuric acid.

He slapped his commbadge. "Kim to sickbay, medical emergency." He moved around the table to get some distance between Tom and he. After another second, he tapped the badge again. "Kim to Bridge. We've got a visitor." Yellow Alert was sounded.

Through this, Tom continued talking. Harry wondered why the Universal Translator wasn't kicking in. With the amount of information he was putting out, he should be understandable by now, though he knew of at least one instance of a race whose language wasn't translated completely by the UT. Eventually, it was found that their language was based entirely on metaphors derived from their language.

Of course, they at least had _seemed_ to be speaking in Standard. Strange, archaic-sounding phrases, but Standard nonetheless.

Through this little trip of internal speculation, Tom never moved his body, except to keep that eerie gaze fixed on fixed on him. Harry wished for a tricorder, so he could at least scan him.

The mess hall doors _hissed _open, and Captain Janeway stepped through, with Tuvok, a security team, and the Doctor close behind. "What's going on?" she demanded. Tom paused for a moment to stare at Janeway, then returned his gaze to Harry and continued speaking.

Tuvok and the Doctor both took out tricorders and scanned Tom. "Most fascinating," remarked Tuvok. "His brainwaves are being suppressed and modified. He appears to be under the influence of an alien force." He manipulated some controls on his tricorder. "The modification of his speech center's function is inhibiting the Universal Translator's normal function, but the translator is compensating. I estimate that the translator will begin translation within the next ten minutes."

"I can wait," replied Janeway.

"It's not just speech centers, though," added the Doctor. "His heart rate has increased dramatically from normal, and his breathing rate as well. Tom's not in any immediate danger, but whether it will stay that way remains to be seen."

They couldn't do anything but wait and hope the Universal Translator would still work as advertised.

—**do not understand. Why do you continue to ignore me? **said the creature. Finally, the UT was doing its job. **What is your function?** Its voice was very deep.

"Finally," sighed the Captain, exasperated. "I am Captain Janeway, commander of the Federation starship _Voyager_. State your intentions."

It (or he?) tilted his head. **I am an explorer. My purpose is to study biochemical life-forms such as you. My people have found that this is the only way we can communicate with biological entities-to take control of one. I offer a trade of information with your home world and mine.**

"We're explorers, ourselves," answered Janeway. "But we're a very long way from home." A thought crossed her mind. "That energy beam-was that the method your people use to contact others?"

**Yes,** affirmed the being. **It is the only way my people know.**

"Then, the transwarp signature, the ship we detected—"

**It was indeed my people,** the creature interrupted. **We could not enter your people in that manner otherwise, because your warp fields disrupt the beam. Likewise, I cannot communicate within these warp fields. Therefore, we were forced to trick you.**

Janeway thought back. It made sense; all reported incidents had happened when they had dropped out of warp.

The Doctor interrupted her thoughts. "I'm worried that this could be harming Mr. Paris. Is there any way you could transfer yourself to another crewmember if it gets too dangerous?"

The alien turned to the Doctor. **I cannot. He was chosen because of specific biological and mental factors, and none of your other crewmembers were found to have the exact factors required.** He paused. **I can, however, release him from my control.**

Janeway and the Doctor looked at each other. "Then we'd like you to release him now. We need some time to consider what you've told us."

**Very well,** agreed the alien. **When you have decided, simply drop out of warp. I will take control again.** Tom's eyes lost focus, then rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness.

The Doctor rushed forward, but missed catching him. Instead, he propped Tom's head up with one hand and scanned him with a tricorder in the other. "Life signs are normal. He's no longer under the alien's influence." He took out a hypospray and pressed it against Tom's neck. It hissed, and Tom came to.

He groaned and sat up. "Please tell me that was a bad dream."

The Doctor shook his head and helped Tom to his feet.

"…so guy staggers to his feet and goes back--" Tom stopped mid-punch line. Harry had been monitoring him for any signs of change, so they would know what to look for when the alien attempted to gain control. There were none, however. He tapped his commbadge. "Ensign Kim to Captain," he said. "Our visitor's back."

Janeway stepped through the conference room doors. The alien looked at her with that same, unnerving, piercing gaze. **Hello, Captain,** greeted the alien. **Have your people made a decision?**

"Yes. We've agreed to share our knowledge."

**Excellent, **he said. **Where shall we begin?**


	2. Part Two

A/N: I do not own Star Trek or Star Trek: Voyager. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Acts Chapter 2, verses 19-20.

_I will show wonders in the heavens above_

_and signs in the earth below_

_blood and fire and billows of smoke._

_The sun will be turned to darkness_

_and the moon to blood_

_before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord._

_Captain's log, supplemental. We've been exchanging information with the alien for a few days now. But I'm starting to get nervous about this. We've done our best to accommodate our guest, as he is providing us with a great deal of important information-but I'm finding it harder and harder to trust him._

**Most fascinating,** exclaimed the alien. **And you consider such reproductive practices…normal?**

The Doctor's answer was cut off by the intercom. _"Bridge to sickbay. Sorry to cut off your conversation, but we need to go to warp."_

**Understood,** replied the alien. **I hope we can continue this conversation soon.** He relinquished control; Tom was back again.

"_Send Mr. Paris to my ready room when he's able," _continued Captain Janeway.

"On my way," Tom confirmed.

Within a few minutes, Tom was in the ready room. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

Janeway turned to face him. "Are you familiar with the story of the Trojan Horse?"

"Very," replied Tom. "Greek Mythology's a required course at the Academy." He realized where the conversation was headed. "And you think this alien is like the Trojan Horse-that he's trying to undermine us in some way?"

"Sort of. You see, he's been asking some very…sensitive questions."

"Such as…?" It had been confirmed that the alien could only control Tom-he couldn't read his mind, and Tom was unaware of events as they happened on the outside.

"Such as standard shield frequencies, communication frequencies, whether a warp field can be collapsed remotely-and knowing his species, that's an _especially _touchy area."

Tom frowned. "_Can _a warp field be collapsed?"

"Yes," admitted Janeway. "Using an inverse graviton pulse. But we're not about to tell him that. We're lucky, though, that he doesn't have too much tact. He clumped most of those questions together-if he hadn't, we wouldn't have caught on." She picked up a padd from her desk and handed it to Tom. "This is the short list of sensitive questions he's asked."

Tom took the padd and scrolled through it. "This is a _short_ list? I'd hate to see the long version."

"The worst part is we're not sure how long it is yet. Seven's compiling a list." She sighed, massaging her temples. "I'm really beginning to wonder if we should be giving this information away. On one hand, he could be planning a takeover of _Voyager._ On the other, he could be planning to give this technology away to a primitive species. Either possibility is something I simply can't allow."

"All right," agreed Tom. "So what do we do about it?"

"The Doctor thinks that activating the warp drive when he's in control could eject him from your body, provided you're as close to the warp core as we can manage." She paused. "It might be best to simply ask him to leave. If he doesn't, we'll do what we can. It's your choice, Tom."

Tom thought about it.

He didn't have to think for very long.

_Voyager _dropped out of warp.

In Engineering, the Doctor and a Security team were preparing for the alien's return. They weren't leaving much to chance-a level-10 force field was erected around Tom, and the security guards were armed with type-3 phaser rifles.

Not long after they were finished, the alien took control again. The Doctor stepped through the force field and greeted him.

He knew something was wrong immediately. **Why have I been confined?** he demanded.

"We've decided we can't exchange any more information with you," explained the Doctor. "Specifically, we're no longer sure we can trust you. You've asked a lot of questions about our technology-far too many."

The alien sounded angry. **I will not leave. I do not know everything I need! I **_**must**_** have more knowledge!**

The Doctor sighed. "I was afraid of that." He nodded to B'Elanna, who began working at a console.

**What is she doing?**

"She's initiating a new warp field," said the Doctor. "As you so helpfully explained, you won't be able to control Mr. Paris within one-and I'm certain that being so close to its origin will expel you from the Lieutenant."

**What? No!** The alien angrily swung at the Doctor, but he'd disabled his magnetic containment fields-the blow passed right through. He then lunged toward where B'Elanna was working-but the force field stopped him easily.

Then he stopped…and closed his eyes as if concentrating…

An alarm sounded. _"Warning," _the computer intoned. _"Warp core breach in one minute."_

B'Elanna worked at her console. "Antimatter containment's breaking down! I can't stop it!" She moved to another console. "I'm going to have to eject the core!"

The alien laughed…and then a security guard shot him.

Tom woke.

He opened his eyes, mostly to make sure he wasn't dead. "Am I in Sto-vo-kor?" he wondered aloud.

The Doctor appeared over him. "I'm afraid not." The Doctor helped him sit up. "How do you feel?"

Tom hesitated. "Not too bad, actually. What happened?"

"Your friend didn't take too kindly to being kicked out," he explained. "So, he tried to cause a warp core breach. Luckily, one of the security personnel shut down the force field and shot him before we had to eject the core. B'Elanna stopped it easily after that."

"But…we didn't get rid of him, did we?"

"No," admitted the Doctor. He planted a device on Tom's neck. "But this neural inhibitor should keep him from popping up again, should we have to drop out of warp."

Then, _Voyager_ dropped out of warp. Tom could tell; the normal vibrations of the ship ceased. He tapped his commbadge. "Paris to Bridge. Why did we drop out of warp?"

"_We've detected another transwarp signature," _explained Janeway._ "It's identical in every way to the one we picked up earlier. We might be able to get some help from them, even if they're not the same species as our guest. In the meantime, report to the bridge." _

"On my way," replied Tom. In a few moments, he stepped from the turbolift…

Just in time to see another beam-this one much faster-seem to pierce the view screen and strike Captain Janeway.

The force of the impact drove her against the back of her chair. Chakotay jumped from his chair; then recovered and checked her vitals.

Suddenly, Janeway stood. She turned to face Chakotay, fixing him with an eerie, piercing stare.

_Something_ spoke.

But this time, the Universal Translator picked up the language easily.

**I greet you,** spoke a very deep, but distinctly female, voice. **I am seeking a criminal of my own species, who may be on this vessel.**

Chakotay was taken aback, but only briefly. "He is," he said. "He took over that crewmember over there." He indicated Tom, who was still standing in front of the turbolift doors.

The alien walked over to Tom. **You will come with me. We shall purge ourselves from these bodies and return to our home world, where you will atone for the crimes you have committed.**

"Wait, wait!" he protested. "He's not in control right now." He gestured toward the neural inhibitor on his neck. "This is keeping him from controlling me."

She paused, staring at the device…

Then unceremoniously tore it from his neck.

Tom yelped. That _hurt!_ His hand automatically leapt to the spot where the device had been. "You're supposed to turn it off first!" He pulled his hand away; there was no blood.

Chakotay jumped from his chair. "What are doing?" he demanded.

The alien turned and struck him across the face with her-or, rather, Janeway's-arm.

He fell to the floor, clutching his nose. It was broken. "Intruder alert!" he managed to order through the pain. "Sound general quarters!" The pain faded a little; he managed to look up.

The two were gone.

"Commander, they took the turbolift to Deck 10," reported Kim. "They're going for the main shuttle hangar." He waited a beat. "At least the translator's working." Nobody found that funny.

Chakotay stood up, stemming a nosebleed with the back of his hand. "Send a security team, armed with type-3 phasers."

"Too late," the ensign at the helm reported. "Unauthorized launch from main shuttle hangar…It's the _Delta Flyer_."

Chakotay turned to Tuvok. "Lock a tractor beam on them. Put the _Flyer _on screen." He watched as the craft was pulled inexorably towards _Voyager_.

Suddenly, the _Flyer_ turned in the beam, and fired two torpedoes. Chakotay had seen that trick many times before. The tractor beam would speed the projectiles up, impeding the target's ability to respond. "Disengage the tractor beam!" he ordered. The damage was guaranteed…but… "Tuvok, disable their weapons and propulsion systems, then reengage the beam." The bridge rocked.

Tuvok followed Chakotay's order well. "Direct hit. Their weapons systems have been disabled." A beat. "I have successfully re-engaged the tractor beam."

"Open a channel." Tom's face appeared on the view screen. "I'm afraid you're out of options. Stand down."

The alien stared defiantly back, but did not resist.

A/N: Constructive criticism is welcome. Fake reviews from "new" users are not. To my second period class: If you're gonna leave a stupid, hateful, and completely random review, at least do it anonymously so I can delete it.

Also: I am having trouble deciding how Part Three will end. In fact, I have no idea how to start it properly. Suggestions are welcome.


	3. Part Three

A/N: I don't own Star Trek or Voyager, but I might have some claim to the aliens I made up on my own. And if you believe that, I've got a bridge on Vulcan I'd like to sell you.

* * *

_Captain's log, supplemental. First Officer Chakotay reporting. We're preparing to remove the aliens from Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Paris. In the meantime, we're heading towards the nearest M-class planet at full impulse._

They were truly prepared this time.

B'Elanna, the Doctor, and both aliens were in Engineering. The Doctor had fitted both with neural inhibitors to keep them from using whatever psychic powers they had, while keeping them in control - which was necessary to remove the aliens.

And of course, there was the security team and the force field.

B'Elanna tapped her commbadge. "Engineering to Bridge. Everything's in place. We're ready to initiate a static warp field."

"_Good," _replied Chakotay. _"Keep me posted."_

B'Elanna moved to a console. "All right…Here we go. Static warp field in five…four…three…two…one." She looked back to Tom and Captain Janeway.

The Doctor was scanning them with his tricorder, frowning. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing's changed." He closed the tricorder. "They lied to us."

"Hold on, Doctor," B'Elanna stopped him. "We might need to go to warp first." She activated her commbadge. "Engineering to Bridge. Nothing's changed. I think it might help if we went to warp one."

"_Acknowledged," _replied Chakotay, and a few moments passed. _"We're at warp one now."_

Still no change. "Try going to warp nine."

Nothing.

"Okay," admitted B'Elanna. "They lied to us."

"I could've told you that," said the Doctor.

* * *

Tuvok stood and walked over to Captain Janeway, who was sitting on the biobed.. Logically, either Lieutenant Paris or Captain Janeway would be sufficient for the meld; it did not matter who he chose. But Captain Janeway was his commanding officer, and took precedent through seniority and rank.

**I will not compl**y **with this procedure,** hissed the alien within her.

"Whether you comply or not is irrelevant," Tuvok replied. "The safety of my captain and _Voyager_ is imperative." He placed his fingertips on Janeway's _katra_ points, the places where telepathic contact would be easiest.

In normal conditions, he would never force a mind-meld on another living being. Once, he had melded with a Betazoid crewmember, Lon Suder, to try to find a motive for a murder he'd committed and to give him some of his own emotional control. But Tuvok had inherited Suder's own violent tendencies, and he attempted to kill the crewmember with another, forced, mind-meld. He failed to kill Suder, though, perhaps because he regained his own Vulcan control just before he was finished. Suder and Tuvok melded on several occasions later as a form of anger management, but the Captain had specifically forbidden any mind-melds without her authorization.

But now, the Captain couldn't give her permission. Chakotay had. Logic suggested that he _must _force this meld. At the very least, they could gain tactical information on these aliens - a home world, a species name, something useful.

"My mind to your mind," he recited, echoing ancient traditions dating back to the time of Surak. She twisted her head; he knew that she would strangle him were her arms not restrained. He did not allow his fingers to break contact with her skin. "My thoughts to your thoughts."

She spit in his face. He ignored the indignity, not even bothering to wipe the spittle from his cheek.

Their thoughts became one.

* * *

Tuvok flinched, then removed his hand and stood up. "Finally," said the Doctor. "If it weren't for your heartbeat - or, err, brainwave activity, I wouldn't be sure you were ali --"

Tuvok shied away. "_Stay away from me!_" he shouted, fearful.

_Oh, how fun,_ thought the Doctor. "Computer, erect a force field around Tuvok." Precautions rarely hurt anyone.

Tuvok backed against the force field's far wall. _"Please,"_ he begged. "Stay back!" He suddenly looked at something behind the Doctor.

"What are you looking at?" He turned around…

Just to see Captain Janeway running. He grabbed a spray hypo. "Security to decks four and five! Computer, deactivate force field!" he commanded the computer, and grabbed Tuvok's arm, dispensing the medication contained. "This is lexorin. It should help with the aftereffects of the mind-meld. Now, _go!_"

* * *

His mind was cleared suddenly. He ran after Janeway.

Turning, the corner, he almost ran into her. She was holding a phaser rifle, a whole security team unconscious at her feet. She saw him and aimed the rifle at Tuvok. **The curious thing is,** she said, **is that you never told us how to fire this device. Perhaps it's on stun. Or you could be disintegrated the moment I shoot you.**

Tuvok raised his arms in a surrendering posture. "What do you want?"

**Take me to your transporter room, **she directed.** You will wait for my associate to join me, then beam us both directly into your shuttlecraft. **She paused. **You will also order your security team off that deck. Now.**

Tuvok touched his commbadge. "Tuvok to security personnel on decks four and five. I suggest you move to deck six until I order otherwise." The alien motioned with the rifle for him to start walking.

When they finally reached the transporter room, Tuvok stepped behind the console. The alien stood on a transporter pad and aimed it at the door, poised to shoot anyone who entered.

Four minutes, twelve seconds later, Tom Paris entered, also armed. He looked at Tuvok with suspicion, but when he did nothing, he went and stood on the pad. **Energize, **he commanded.

Tuvok entered coordinates, and slid his hand up the transporter controls, initiating transport, and the two disappeared in a quantum mist.

Minus the phaser rifles.

* * *

The Doctor heard a transporter chime, and turned to see Janeway and Paris materializing behind him. "Computer, set up an isolation field," he ordered.

As soon as they stopped materializing, the alien inside Paris realized they were in sickbay. **He tricked us!** he screamed.

"Screaming about it won't get you anywhere," the Doctor informed him.

* * *

_Captain's log, supplemental. First officer Chakotay reporting. No progress has been made on removing the aliens. In the meantime, we've made contact with a race known as the Degulians, who are capable of warp travel but use fusion power instead of matter/antimatter annihilation to power their ships . They have a large archive, where they believe may be information on these aliens._

The transporter room dissolved around him in a quantum mist, and was replaced by a large, open area. When transport finally finished, a woman stepped forward. "Hello," she greeted him. "I'm Lakoma. I'm supposed to bring you to the Archive and help you use it." Like all of her race, she had a distinct green cast to her skin due to copper-based blood, but besides having somewhat small facial features, there was little to distinguish her from the average human.

"I am Tuvok," he identified himself. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. "Where is this Archive?"

"This way," she said, and began walking, motioning for him to follow.

After some time, they reached a large pyramid-shaped building, made of glass in various colors. "A fascinating design," observed Tuvok. "Do you know who designed it?"

"No, nobody does," said Lakoma as they entered the building. "It's one of the few pieces of information that isn't in the Archive." She related more of the Archive's history as they walked to the main bank of access terminals, where several other Dengulian men and women were working.

"The Archive's been here for many centuries. We think it was built by a race of extraterrestrials, but no races we've encountered are advanced enough to have built it. It contained a lot of information to start out with - other planets, stellar phenomenon, that sort of thing. It also gathers knowledge on its own - art, music, historical records. We're not sure how but we don't really care to know."

They reached an empty terminal. "Archive," she began. "List any known alien species that fits the following parameters: It must be non-corporeal, and it must have the capability to take control of a humanoid and his or her life functions."

"_Working,"_ said a male voice. _"One entry found."  
_

"Only one?" wondered Lakoma. "Usually it spits out two or three and I have to narrow it down from there…Not that I'm complaining. Show entry."

"_Necromian. Non-corporeal life-form known to inhabit several star systems. Necromians are noted for the ability to inhabit the bodies of various humanoid species, and control various aspects of its functions. It is often needed for the species to reproduce. They do not force this inhabitation on unwilling individuals except in extreme cases. Also notable is their ability to sense warp fields, as well as their intensity. Most Necromians live on a small fleet of generational ships, which tour the immediate area - around fifty light-years, an area encompassing Dengulian space - looking for new hosts. The Necromians are on friendly terms with the Dengulians and make regular contact."_

"Would there be any occasion in which a Necromian might force inhabitation?" queried Tuvok.

"_One case is known. A young Necromian entered the reproductive cycle earlier than anticipated. He was unable to find a suitable, willing host, and, being near death, took one out of desperation." _

"When is the next time they plan to make contact?"

Instead of answering, it provided a list of the next three contact times, the next one being about four Standard hours away.

Tuvok turned to Lakoma. "I must return to _Voyager._ Would you allow us to scan your database and download some of the information?"

"I'd have to ask my superiors, but yes, I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Good. Thank you for your help." He activated his commbadge. "Tuvok to _Voyager._ One to beam up."

The Archive building dissolved around him.

* * *

Four hours and forty-five minutes later, the Ops console beeped. "Incoming transmission," Harry reported. "The Dengulians are receiving a transmission from the Necromians. They want us to join it on a 3-way comm. link."

"Put it through," instructed Chakotay. The screen flashed. The Dengulian ambassador was on the left, and another was behind him, perhaps an aide. On the right was what he presumed to be the Necromian ambassador.

"It's very good to see you, Ambassador," greeted the Dengulian.

**And you as well, **replied the Necromian. He noticed Chakotay and leaned forward a bit to get a better look. **I'm afraid I don't recognize you, **he said. He spoke in the same deep bass voice.

"This is Commander Chakotay of the Federation," the Dengulian introduced. "There's been an incident and we believe some of your species may be partly responsible."

Chakotay explained in detail what had happened. "We're unable to remove the Necromians ourselves," he concluded. "Can you help us?"

**I may be able to, **replied the ambassador. **I'll arrange for a ship to rendezvous with you in one day. I'll be there personally.**

"I look forward to meeting you," replied Chakotay. "Now, I'm sure you have some catching up to do, so I'll leave you to it. _Voyager, _out."

* * *

Chakotay entered Sickbay, with the ambassador behind him. They'd been unwilling to risk transporting the Necromian stowaways to the brig, and had decided to simply leave them behind the force field.

**These are the two who have been taken? **queried the ambassador.

"Yes," replied Chakotay.

**Who are you? **demanded the Necromian that inhabited Tom.

**I have come to ask you some questions,** said the ambassador. **How long have you been separated from our people?**

Slowly, but surely, the truth came out. The one inside Tom had been part of a group of Necromians that traditionally seek seclusion during the reproductive cycle. During the last stages of the cycle, an accident occurred, and the alien's original host was killed. The second alien, inside Janeway, resulted, and the two attempted to reach their ship without violating the Necromian beliefs about forced inhabitation.

Their reproductive cycles had struck again, however, and the first ship they found was _Voyager._

"I don't understand," said Chakotay. "Why the whole song and dance?"

**Many species are understandably uncomfortable with the thought of an alien reproducing inside their heads, **said Tom's alien. **We couldn't accept the possibility that you would turn us away.**

**We felt that a deception would suffice to gain your consent, **added Janeway's alien. **If you had not suspected him of attempting to gain control of the ship, our plan might have succeeded. We would have completed our reproductive cycle, and leave the bodies, who would be able to recover and return to their ship.**

**And what if they had not? **demanded the ambassador. **There could have easily been a problem. And how would you care for your young? You are well aware, I hope, that young Necromians require at least another week of incubation in a host.**

**A few days was sufficient for me,** retorted the one residing in Janeway.

**But are you certain it would be sufficient for **_**your**_** young? **he argued. **Every cycle is different - what works in one may fail in another. **She was silent. **Fortunately, I anticipated that you could be about to reproduce, **he continued, **and I brought two hosts so you may incubate the young.**

"Now, hold on," interrupted Chakotay. "I'm all for allowing them to finish what they started, but shouldn't we get _their_ consent?" He meant Tom and Captain Janeway.

**I agree, **said the alien occupying Tom. **I will give you about thirty minutes to reach a decision. **He released his control, as did the one controlling Janeway.

Chakotay felt a slight sensation of _déjà vu _but said nothing.

Janeway massaged her temples. "Anybody get the registry number of the shuttlecraft that hit me?" Tom seemed to be in the same state.

"I don't have much time, so I'll be brief." He summarized everything he knew, with the ambassador filling in the blank spots. "And now they want to use your bodies to reproduce," he finished.

"Are there any other options?" she asked.

"Not really," he said. "From what I've seen, they're in an agitated enough mental state that they might not really care any more if you consent or not. They chose you and Tom, and they want to use you and Tom."

The Necromian ambassador stepped forward a bit. **If I may. The fact that they forced inhabitation suggests to me that they're incredibly desperate. It may be best to simply consent. The process will only take a week, and we will return you to your ship when they are finished. Think about it, **he urged.

And so she did. She thought…and thought a little more…"All right. I suppose it's the only thing that's finally going to settle this." Tom agreed with her.

"Just remember one thing, Captain," said Chakotay.

"What?" she asked, mystified.

Chakotay smiled. "It's all in your head."

* * *

_Captain's log, supplemental. It's good to be back. We've departed on friendly terms with the Necromians and the Dengulians, but neither could provide us with deuterium, and our reserves are running low._

"Coffee, black." She waited for the cup to materialize.

"Don't you think we should be trying to conserve as much energy as we can?" asked Tom, who was sitting on the couch. "Maybe you should skip a cup."

"I haven't had coffee in over a week," she retorted. "I'm not skipping anything." She took a sip. "I've been wondering…If they hadn't forced their control on us, would we have helped them?"

Tom tilted his head a bit. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" She hesitated, forming her words carefully. "If they had said, 'Hi, we need to reproduce and we want to use your body'…I think I might have turned them away." She took another sip. "But they showed us how desperate they were, how much they _needed _our help."

"That doesn't make much sense to me," said Tom.

"I know," she admitted. "But that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." They both smiled.

* * *

A/N: I'm finished with this story. Done. The End. No more. Constructive criticism is welcome - advise me, don't flame me. 


End file.
